


Hot Girls

by MyrJuhl



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Abuse, Adult Content, Age Difference, Angst, Biker-Grantaire, Comfort, Discriminatory Language, Disturbing Jehan, Domestic Disputes, Drama, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Family, Feelings, Happy Ending, Hatred, Homophobia, Humiliation, In Public, Jealousy, Kissing, Language, Loss, M/M, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Modern Setting, Non con/rape, Non-Consensual, Objectified Enjolras, Pain, Panic, Porn, Possessive Behaviour, Protectiveness, Roughness, Secrets, Self-Esteem, Tension, Voyeurism, Work, cross dressing, discomfort, dub-con, light kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-05 23:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19050514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrJuhl/pseuds/MyrJuhl
Summary: When Grantaire’s father dies, he leaves the contract to a small rented flat to his son.  Grantaire takes the opportunity to exchange the big city with the countryside. The flat he now lives in is positioned above a convenience store next to a gas station. Just to kill time, the parking lot is frequented most of the day by a group of young local bikers. Grantaire can see them from his window. Mistakenly, he thinks he checks out a smoking hot girl amongst the crowd, but he's in for a big surprise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a song fic but is nevertheless inspired by 'Hot Girls' by INXS
> 
> I’m looking out my window at some girl, as I'm writing this.  
> I watch her eat a peach, the way she's biting it, biting it.  
> I probably shouldn't stare, but I am fighting it, fighting it.  
> I think that she's aware and kind of liking it, liking it.
> 
> On her motorbike, the way she's riding it, riding it.  
> She says it feels so good but she is hiding it, hiding it.  
> Wet lips to cigarette and now she's striking it, lighting it.  
> As she looks me in the eye, hell, she must know she's inviting it.
> 
> Holding up some paper to the window,  
> She’s writing her name and number,  
> And I'm laughing, as I'm dialling it, dialling it.
> 
> *
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer: These events never happened. This fic is for entertainment purposes only, not profit. I, the author, make no claim through this work as to the fictional characters/ actual lives/ preferences/ activities of the people mentioned herein.  
> **  
> 

Prologue

Sitting quietly, Grantaire watched the attorney press ‘PRINT’ on his computer, before he produced a handful of papers for Grantaire to sign.

“Well. As you know, the funeral costs basically drained what was left on your father’s account. At least you have the lease right to his flat. And the motorbike is yours.”

Grantaire laughed humorlessly. “Yeah. At least I have those.” After signing several dotted lines, Grantaire folded his copies of the papers. There was nothing left to say, all the details were taken care of, so he shook the man’s hand and stepped out of his London office. Outside, Grantaire found a bench and sat down to gather his thoughts. So many things had happened in such a short span of time and he felt a little lost for a while.

Grantaire’s dad had died a few days prior. He hadn’t been close to the guy and called him Twigs, not dad. Twigs had been a truck driver all Grantaire’s life. On a monthly basis, the man had been home three-four nights, leaving Grantaire and his mum on their own. That didn’t give Grantaire much of a chance to bond with him. Grantaire’s mum died a couple years ago so even if Twigs was his only parent, Grantaire felt like he’d had no parents, since he left home at sixteen. So it came as a big surprise when Twigs called after three years of silence and told him he was coming by. He had some business to attend to and, if Grantaire felt like it, they could hang out. He’d bring his motorcycle and Grantaire could use it if he wanted to. What little time Grantaire had spent with his dad when he was a kid, his most fond memory was Twigs’ love for motorcycles and Grantaire had tapped into that. It was the only thing they’d ever had in common, and was probably the only part of Twigs’ visit that Grantaire looked forward to. 

Grantaire was having bad luck at the moment holding on to a job for more than a few weeks at a time. The last decent job he had was at a small theatre in East End. Mostly he did odd jobs, painted, contributed to the scenery or filled in if an extra called in sick. But the theatre had to let him go when a production failed, and they had to cancel shows for the next three months.

A couple of weeks ago, his lack of money resolved in him getting a notice to quit his flat. Having no alternative, he crashed where his friends could spare a room. When telling Twigs that Grantaire couldn’t actually offer him a place to stay for his visit, Grantaire was relieved to hear that his dad had booked a hotel room. At the same time, it meant that he wouldn’t have to spend too much time in his company.

They’d met outside Twigs’ hotel where his dad handed over his bike to Grantaire, like he’d said he would. They’d exchanged a few words before hugging awkwardly. Two hours later, someone from a hospital called Grantaire to inform him that Twigs had been in a car accident. He’d died on the spot when a car hit him in a cross section. Apparently, he’d simply ignored the red light. 

Shell shocked, Grantaire hadn’t known what to feel when he identified him. He’d barely spoken to his dad more than ten minutes in total after he’d arrived. It was as if his father knew it was going to happen. Still Grantaire had been his dad’s number one contact in case of an emergency. He didn’t know what to feel about that either.

Lighting up a cigarette, Grantaire pushed the thoughts to the back of his head as he inhaled the calming smoke. He’d never know how all of that was connected now.

So. His glorious inheritance was the motorcycle and a flat in the middle of nowhere on top of a convenience store in a parking lot. Wow. He didn’t even know that Twigs didn’t live in Manchester anymore. Grantaire nursed his cigarette for a while longer. Finally, he got up and sat on the bike that had carried him to the attorney in London. Grantaire scrunched his nose and wiped a finger across the tip a few times. Why would he want a small flat placed on top of a convenience store in the middle of nowhere? Because it would be a place to stay even if only for a while. It wasn’t as if he was in a hurry to get somewhere else and the change might open unexpected opportunities. Grantaire snorted. Right.

“All right. Let’s get to the middle of fucking nowhere.”

 

Part 1

Strong fingers hugged the gas handle of the classic motorbike, as Grantaire checked his GPS. Signs along the cross-section informed him that he was indeed still on the right track and that his destination was only seventeen kilometres away. Lifting the hem of his t-shirt Grantaire wiped his sweaty brow. It’s so fucking hot, and he took off his helmet. For a few minutes, he let his shaggy black curls get some air, before he put the helmet back on. He was grateful for the bike and it had been a while since he’d taken a longer ride. It was an awesome machine and in perfect condition. 

With a smirk, Grantaire twisted the gas handle and turned left toward the town he was heading for. Twenty minutes later, the showings of a sparsely populated area began to appear in the horizon, and Grantaire pulled up at the correct gas station shortly after. Checking out the lot, he noticed a group of young people gathered behind the store that turned out to be a medium sized Sainsbury supermarket, and he wondered if the people hung around this spot just to pass time. They looked a little too old to go to school anymore and obviously; this place wasn’t providing further opportunities to getting a higher education unless they moved away. Moreover, as Grantaire had experienced himself, jobs were nonexistent in this part of the country, too.

Grantaire put his helmet in the compartment behind the seat and glanced once more toward the small crowd. Getting up, he pulled off his luggage and brought it with him into the store to look for the manager.

Finding a clerk busy stocking shelves, he went straight toward him. “Hello,” he greeted the bloke.

Startled, the young man looked up from his work and nodded. “Hey. How can I help you?”

“Is the manager around some place?”

“I’m the manager,” the bloke said.

“Seriously...?” Grantaire asked, eyeing his young face, and then he shrugged. “All right. Anyway, my dad has the lease for the flat upstairs.”

“Ah. Ed. He lives there, yes.”

“Quite.” Grantaire’s brain stopped for a few moments. “Well, the thing is that my dad died last week.”

“OH!” the manager said, his eyes growing huge by the sudden information. “W-well. We did wonder why he hadn’t returned from London. I appreciate you telling me this. Oh, fuck. My condolences. I... you must be very upset.” The manager looked very upset himself.

Grantaire felt he had to convince the guy he wasn’t upset - which he wasn’t - so it wouldn’t be so difficult to brush over that part and get to the reason why he was there in the first place. “No. It’s fine. I came to tell you that I’d like to continue the lease of the flat.”

“Sure. That’s no problem. We’ll just... uh... Wow. Wasn’t expecting that.”

“No one was. He had a heart attack. Completely unexpected,” Grantaire lied. Mentioning it was a car accident would prolong the guy’s condolences and concern, and Grantaire wanted to get to the point. Still, it was a surprise that Twigs had been so well liked. It felt like a different dimension and this bloke’s display of affection was becoming surreal.

“You know,” the manager said, “Your dad worked here.”

“No shit?” Grantaire burst out. “Doing what?” He was pretty sure that Twigs had been a truck driver the last time he checked.

“Well, restocking the shelves, sweeping, and tending the register mostly. Him living upstairs also gave him late shifts and early check outs for me. He didn’t mind.”

Grantaire glanced around the store. It was a nice clean store and he turned his attention back on the manager. “Well, you’ll need another guy to replace him, right?”

“Would you like to take the job?” the manager suddenly asked, looking keenly at Grantaire. “I’m up for some holiday I’ve planned a while ago, and I was getting a little nervous when your dad failed to show up Monday.”

Grantaire hummed amused. Would he mind a job on top of earning a flat? Well, when the bloke asked so nicely, Grantaire might be able to squeeze the working hours into his busy schedule. “I guess we could work something out. I’m Grantaire.” He stuck out his hand and the manager grabbed it with a huge smile of relief. 

“I’m Feuilly. And thanks! And welcome to Wilt’s Cove by the way!”

Grantaire nodded. He’d worked in supermarkets many times, but a small local store seemed like an appealing work place. The thought of sticking around for a while crept up on him unexpectedly. Living upstairs would be ridiculously convenient, and he wouldn’t have to worry about being late for work.

“I’ve worked the till many times. This shouldn’t be so difficult to handle.”

“Well, before we had scanners, we had to remember everything by heart. Four digits for every item. One got the hang of it surprisingly fast. Now we just scan the stuff. Much easier obviously,” Feuilly rambled.

Grantaire nodded. Thank fuck for that.

“The people nice around here?”

“Yeah, as nice as can be expected. Everybody knows everything about everybody kind of thing. So there is tiresome gossiping to be had when you want it the least.”

“Well, nobody gave a shit about anybody where I come from, mate.”

Feuilly looked at him for a few moments and smiled with a shrug. “I think I prefer the gossip over people who barely look at me when they pay.”

Grantaire smirked and couldn’t help adding, “Almost sounds dirty.”

“Dirty?” Feuilly asked.

“Well...” Grantaire stopped then decided to elaborate, although he hated to explain his punch lines. “You know... when someone pays a prostitute for a service you appreciate but don’t really want to look at them afterwards because now they’re dirty, filthy.”

Cocking his head, Feuilly thought about it and smirked knowingly. “I totally get that. Well, we do have hookers here, too.”

Grantaire lifted his eyebrows. “Riiighto... I wasn’t asking for directions on where to get laid.”

Feuilly laughed. “Just say the word.”

Grantaire nodded not knowing how he managed to initiate that awkward conversation so fast.

“My neighbour is very friendly,” Feuilly added and winked at Grantaire.

“Ahhh... whatever,” Grantaire said. “When would you like me to start?”

“Now,” Feuilly laughed and then waved his hand dismissively, when Grantaire looked taken aback. “Just joking. You’ll probably want to check out the flat first?”

“I have Twi... my dad’s key. I just wanted to say hello and figure out if there was anything I needed to know.”

“You can go up now if you want to. Still wanna start tomorrow?”

“Sure. No problem. Will you be there?”

“Um... actually. I’m starting my holiday tomorrow, but Jehan will be there. We’re usually two in the shop at the same time, but he’s got the day off today. I’ll show you your dad’s schedule.” He frowned and corrected himself. “I mean, _your_ schedule.”

Grantaire nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll be down in a couple of hours. I need a shower and something to eat.”

“No problem. You have your own entry next to the rest room.”

“Cool... just one more thing. Do we tend the gas, too?”

“No. We have nothing to do with that. You pay the machine and only after that, you fill your tank. It’s never manned. BP takes care of that.”

“Sounds good.” Grantaire was relieved that he didn’t have to tend that, too. Due to the high gas prices, too many drivers simply didn’t come into the shop and paid their bill but cowardly drove away; stealing the gas they’d just filled up. That kind of behaviour grated on Grantaire’s nerves. Turning, he quickly took a tour in the shop and found something easy to heat, as well as some beverages.

Feuilly rung up his purchase and to Grantaire’s delight, he got it for half price. “Thanks. See you in a bit.”

~¤¤¤~

Grantaire left the shop before Feuilly could start up a new conversation and stepped out into the sunlight. Cornering the shop, he found the staircase and jumped the steps quickly. Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the door and entered his new home. Looking around, he was surprised by how tidy everything was. Walking to the small tea kitchen, he dropped his purchases on the counter. Turning around he eyed everything again.

"Sweet." 

There was a microwave oven, fridge, TV, a DVD, radio, although Grantaire wasn’t going to use that one. He preferred his own music from his phone. Sighing, Grantaire put his food in the oven and pushed the appropriate buttons. Then he went to the small table next to the only window in the room. It faced the parking lot and he sat down and studied the young bored crowd. 

A few of the girls sat on the seats of the bikes, probably the girlfriends of the motorcycle owners. Some talked, others were making out. 

The oven gave a loud ding and Grantaire automatically went to fetch his meal. Finding some utensils in a drawer, he went back to the window and continued to study the young people as he ate his food.

A flash of light caught his attention and once more, he darted a look toward the lot to see what caused that. Smirking he saw that the sunlight was reflected on a glittery sticker on the motorcycle where yet another couple were making out. However, due to Grantaire’s previous point of view, the girl had been obscured by her boyfriend’s broad back. Now she stood on the ground with her back turned to Grantaire, as she leaned against the spread thighs of her boyfriend. Grantaire stole a closer glance and now she was a stunning sight. Long legs; toned all over, as if she hit the gym regularly. Her arse was barely covered in denim shorts that hung so low on small hips that Grantaire imagined he could glimpse the shadow of her cleft if he was thinking dirty. And everything about this girl fed his brain instant images of all kinds of dirty, sexual positions he would love to do to her.

Grantaire’s eyes slid up lazily and took in her tank top that was cut at the middle of her back. Her long blond hair bounced in the breeze in soft curls, tantalising, beautiful. Grantaire took in the long curve of her spine adorned by sweet shoulder blades that disappeared and reappeared when she shifted her body. Her arms moved so graciously sensual when she put them around her boyfriend’s neck. Grantaire couldn’t say why he found her so appealing. Usually, he preferred smaller girls, but this particular girl enchanted him.

The guy pulled her close and put his big paws on her arse. She cocked her head as if asking silently for a kiss, but when she wasn’t granted one, angry words were exchanged and, as far as Grantaire could read body language, the boyfriend looked tempted to punch his gorgeous girlfriend. Grantaire frowned wondering for a moment if the scenery was going to be violent. However, nothing of the sort happened and the other people in the crowd didn’t respond to the incident either. Business as usual, apparently.

Slowly, she turned and Grantaire stopped breathing in shocked surprise. She wasn't a girl at all - but if she had been, she had the smallest tits he'd ever seen. Only defined pecs stretched out that top. Looking closer at her face, Grantaire’s enthusiasm diminished. That was the face of a boy. A very _very_ attractive boy, but a boy nevertheless. 

"Fuck..." Grantaire’s sexual fantasy was gone as fast as it had appeared, but still it left him with a burgeoning hard on that seemed to have a mind of its own. Unexpectedly, he realised that the little charmer down in the lot was staring right toward his window. Grantaire gasped completely caught by surprise. Being looked back at was unexpectedly intimate and challenging. Quite the looker himself, Grantaire was used to people checking him out, but he wasn't used to boys giving him hard ons just from Grantaire looking at them _after_ he knew they were boys.

What was the boy doing in a place like this? Well, Grantaire wasn’t exactly born here either and the gorgeous blond across the lot might have moved here when he was younger. Grantaire spent a few seconds fantasising from the point back to when he still thought he was a girl. It was still a hot presentation. Images of those toned legs spreading for him, and what he would find at their apex didn't distract from Grantaire knowing he was a boy. Grantaire found that exhilarating as he kept the boy's stare right up until he saw the loser behind lift his hand as if again threatening the boy. Cocking his head, Grantaire imagined the blond was quite a handful and obviously provocative and temperamental. However, that didn’t excuse what Grantaire just witnessed. The bloke grabbed the boy's wrist and literally dragged him along, leaving the parking lot. Grantaire wondered what was happening. From not knowing this boy and to wanting to protect him, had Grantaire stop for a moment and analyse his motivation. His erection was still happily present, and Grantaire cast another look out the window. He couldn’t see the couple anymore and the other people down there were casting glances toward the house. They, too, seemed subdued.

"Fuck..." Grantaire groaned. Well, he wasn't going to ignore this. Ignoring his boner instead, he got out of the flat and began walking down the staircase. Immediately, he heard the door to the public rest room shut closed. Grantaire quickly connected the dots and when he reached the door, he slowly pushed it open. It hadn’t been locked and the sight that greeted him made him gasp softly, but not too loud to be overheard by the couple several feet away.

The blond's shorts were pulled down from behind but his boyfriend blocked Grantaire’s view, preventing him from seeing the bloke already balls deep inside him. The blond beauty was pushed against the sink, facing the mirror and, by the look of his face, he wasn’t enjoying himself.

“Ahh...” he winced and smacked his hands against the reflective surface.

“Shut up, bitch...” the bloke growled. 

“It hurts, arsehole!” was the blond's hissed reply before closing his blue eyes and biting his lip.

“Then fucking quit riling me up, you dirty whore.”

The boy gasped deeply and a pained moan pushed from his throat. Grantaire saw a hand sneak up in front of him and some interesting motions caught his attention. 

“Like that? Does that tickle your horny little cunt?” the bloke asked him and then the boy opened his gorgeous eyes again and caught Grantaire peeping.

 _What a degrading pig,_ Grantaire thought. Even though the scenery turned him on, at the same time, he was turned off by the way the bloke talked to his boyfriend and the brutal way he forced himself on to him. If Grantaire hadn’t known better, he’d say he was witnessing rape in progress.

The boy's eyes almost filmed over with a strange glimpse of lustful fear, before he moaned in a husky voice, “Oh god, yes it does.” 

The bloke removed his hand from what Grantaire imagined had to be the boy's dick, smothered his big paws up the boy’s long wiry body, and pushed up the flimsy shirt.

Even though Grantaire knew he wasn't watching a girl, he still swallowed disappointed, could barely breathe from the visual overload even if he didn’t get to see the boy's nipples, and had to get out before he accidentally exposed his presence. He wanted to see and hear the boy come like crazy, but it wasn’t worth the price of getting beat up by the Neanderthal.

Stepping outside, Grantaire took a few indecisive steps. He was shaken with arousal and confusion. The boy was treated roughly, and Grantaire thought he detected that he goaded the guy on to get it over with faster. Grantaire shook his head and summed up his impressions. The boy liked the _sex_ , but not that his boyfriend deliberately hurt him.

Resting against the shop window, Grantaire folded his arms across his chest and waited. A few minutes after, the bloke came out; once more dragging the boy along.

“Not so fast!” the blond hissed and jerked his arm loose of the hard grip.

“Not my fault you didn’t prepare yourself, bitch,” the guy smirked, groping the boy's backside, but he only got a soft groan of discomfort as a reply.

Grantaire lingered in a mix of resentment and curiosity before he bounced off the window and went over the lot to introduce himself.

“Hi,” he greeted the bunch who nodded wearily back at him, checking him out for various reasons. They could probably tell that he was above their age except for the muscled guy who was considerably older than all of them. 

“I just moved in above the store and wanted to meet you guys. I’m Grantaire.” His eyes slid over the group as names were exchanged, but he only wanted to know the boy's. When Grantaire’s gaze lingered on his beatific face, he saw his lip looked slightly split and Grantaire frowned but didn’t provoke a comment on it. It didn’t have to have happened just now after Grantaire escaped from the restroom, but the fact that he _had_ a split lip didn’t make it better. On top of the borderline rape, the boy also suffered regular, physical abuse one way or another. 

The boy met his gaze but his attitude didn’t fool Grantaire though. The blond was vulnerable when he was alone with his boyfriend and played the tough chick when he was with the group. Cocking his head challengingly, he put his hands on his hips to strike a sexy attitude, but Grantaire saw how those hands shook slightly. 

“I’m Enj... Enjy,” he finally said, as if he'd forgotten what he was called for a moment, and his blue eyes sparkled in the sun. Grantaire’s cock stirred happily in his trousers when the boy's lips parted slightly, exposing pearly white, glistening, and succulent teeth. 

“Should I charge you?” the bloke asked with a stupid laugh at Grantaire, who realised that everybody had noticed how he was gaping at Enjy. Grantaire’s fist clenched automatically. He was only a thought away from burrowing it in the guy's stupid face. What the hell did Enjy see in him? Did he like this brutal character, or was he a victim and couldn't get away because he'd lose his social network within the group? Well, they weren't exactly supporting him and looked away when Enjy was abused. The bloody wanker had too much power over everybody. Grantaire itched to show him that he had an opponent who wouldn't back away from a challenge.

“Fuck, I’m terribly sorry,” Grantaire said smoothly.

“Nothing to be sorry about. My baby’s gorgeous. Nobody can ignore that. Nobody _should_ ignore that.” He squeezed the boy’s arse possessively. Enjy stared daggers at him, and Grantaire could see that he was still in actual pain.

“You got a bike?” the boyfriend asked.

“Yeah. Over there,” Grantaire said and pointed.

“Hang out with us,” he said. “I’m Félix.” A muscular arm struck out and Grantaire reflexively took the offered hand. Grantaire’s hand was gripped in an iron fist. Inwardly, he rolled his eyes at the man. Grantaire was well built, too, but he didn’t need to be a macho fuck and sweat testosterone all over a stranger whenever he felt there was competition to be had... or in this guy’s example, after a quick shag in a public restroom.

"Félix..." Enjy said and faced Félix, but his eyes slid toward Grantaire. "Gotta go. Shopping for tea, you know."

"But I want you around tonight," Félix said and pulled Enjy back in his arms roughly indicating blatantly there was more shagging to be had.

"Bloody hell..." Enjy winced visibly, as he tried to compensate for the sudden pain visible in his angular face. "It's uh... very sweet of you, but mum asked me to come by. Dad is home tonight. You know how he gets. I should really be there."

"Well, all right then," Félix said and kissed Enjy demonstratively in front of Grantaire who had to look away. It was obscene, noisily wet, and only to make an example of his ownership of the boy. As soon as he let go of him, Félix went to his bike and was gone in a matter of seconds. Grantaire just knew that bloke was not in love with Enjy. He just liked to have him around for a fuck. Nothing else. Grantaire had never treated any of his girlfriends that way. He'd never even entertained the thought.

After Félix had left, it was as if the tension that had kept everybody in the same spell evaporated and, shortly after, the rest of the people dispersed, heading in various directions toward their homes.

~¤¤¤~

Enjy stood all forlorn in the lot and self-consciously rubbed his hands up and down his naked arms.

"I'll just..." Enjy said and looked a little misplaced to Grantaire now he didn’t have to pretend to be tough in front of anybody. 

"Let me give you a hand, Enjy...” Grantaire tried to offer.

"My name is Enjolras," Enjolras interrupted. "And I can take care of myself."

"Right..." Grantaire said, stalling. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Enjy... Enjolras. "Would you like to freshen up... I mean..." Grantaire pointed at the building with his thumb. “At my place?"

Enjolras looked at him with disbelief. "And then what?"

"Well... nothing." Grantaire wasn’t used to this. He had no problems smooth talking girls... but Enjolras wasn't exactly a girl. "You're all right?" he asked instead in a last attempt to create some sort of connection to him.

However, Enjolras hissed, "Of course. I'm peachy." Then tears welled up in his eyes and the beautiful boy moaned and cursed himself for that. "Shit. Just leave me alone. I'll get home by myself."

"Weren't you going shopping?" Grantaire asked lamely.

Enjolras turned fractionally and shrugged. "No... I wasn't going to. Sometimes I just need to get away from Félix," he said and wiped his eye.

"My place then. You can freshen up there."

"Thanks," Enjolras finally agreed, and a fat tear escaped his lower eyelid.

"He's not fucking worth it," Grantaire blurted out. "I'm sorry. I don’t even know you, but those who do aren't doing a great job protecting you, Enjolras."

"I only have my mum.”

"Can't your dad help you?" Grantaire suggested leading the way up the stairs.

"He doesn’t actually live anymore. Félix just never got the message. I only use him as an excuse for Félix not to show up at my house, basically drag me upstairs, and fuck me while my family listen to his grunts and my..." Enjolras stopped by literally slapping a hand in front of his mouth.

Grantaire didn’t know what to say after that. It was terrible and Enjolras clearly had no one to talk to about the abuse he was suffering. Treading careful, Grantaire decided to be as kind to him as possible. They didn't know each other so that was the best he could to for him right now.

"Well, here we are," Grantaire said superfluously. They'd finally reached his flat and gingerly Enjolras stuck his head in and assessed the room.

"I could run you a bath, if you’d like. It might help with the... ah... the ache..." Grantaire explained.

"Thank you," Enjolras responded. Then he stretched his neck and called out to Grantaire, as he disappeared into the bathroom. "Are you gay, Grantaire?"

"No... Sorry."

"Oh..." Enjolras huffed. Then he neared the door, too, and watched as Grantaire prepared the bath. "Odd... but sweet of you."

Grantaire turned and smiled. "That’s all right, luv’. So are you." Then he stopped awkwardly and rubbed his hand at the back of his neck. "Um... I mean..."

"Don’t worry. I confuse a lot of people. You're not the first."

"I mean," Grantaire looked at his beautiful face. "You _are_ lovely. It's a fact. One doesn’t have to be gay to acknowledge that you’re sweet on the eye."

"It's the mascara... and the hair," Enjolras said and pulled on a soft curl. It bounced back when he let go. "Once all this crap is wiped off, I assure you that you wouldn’t even have noticed me if we passed in the street.”

Grantaire got up from testing the water's temperature and went to stand close to Enjolras. "Give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“Why do you even care? Weren’t you supposed to be straight?” Enjolras asked, his eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

“Let us see you in daylight first then. Then I can make a better judgement."

Enjolras regarded him pointedly. "We don’t even know each other, Grantaire. This is highly unusual."

"I just lost my dad. I didn't care much about him to be honest. I'm sure he cared about me but we weren’t communicating very well, so it was easier not to be in touch at all. And now he's gone." Grantaire looked away and chuckled self-consciously. "I don't know why I just said that. I don't even think I ever thought about it that way..."

Enjolras nodded. "That’s all right. I suppose it is easier to talk to a stranger, don’t you think?” He went to look out of the small open bathroom window. “Well, I hated my stepdad. He beat the crap out of us, gambled, or spent whatever money we had on drinking. I have no words to describe how happy I am that my old man is dead. Sorry. I’m so sorry. You didn’t exactly hate your dad.” Enjolras turned and stepped into the room again.

Grantaire went back into the living room following Enjolras. “Different situation. Different family. I would hate your dad, too.”

Enjolras hummed in agreement. “I kind of liked your dad. You look a lot like him, you know.”

“You noticed? I mean, you...”

“Yeah, I noticed the second you came out in the lot that you had to be related to Ed.” Enjolras sighed. “He was kind to me. Always said hi. No biggie.”

Enjolras turned to go and check out a small shelf with trinkets Twigs ust have kept from his time as a truck driver. Behind a folder Enjolras fished out a photo. It was a school photo of Grantaire. "Cute..." he said before he dropped it back behind the folder.

Grantaire didn’t know what to say to that. “I don’t think I look like my dad – just for the record. You, however, should take that bath now or the water’ll get cold.”

“Thanks. But I don't think I want to take my clothes off in your home,” Enjolras said looking at him sharply.

Grantaire gaped for a few moments. “I’d never impose... I could step out all together?”

“All right. If you’d do that, then I might...”

Grantaire lifted both hands in a sign of peace, literally stepped out of the room, and went downstairs to meet Feuilly for his schedule.

“Wow,” Grantaire said as he stood on the ground again. Mentally retracing what had just occurred within the last twenty minutes, he was nothing short of feeling blown away.

~¤¤¤~

“Hey, Feuilly,” Grantaire said and smiled shortly. He was anxious to get back up to the flat.

“I’ll print that schedule for you,” Feuilly said, clearly already forgotten all about it.

“Thanks,” Grantaire said.

“Come along. Might as well show you how things are done in the office,” Feuilly said. Grantaire shrugged. But yes. Eventually, he’d have to be able to do office routines, too.

What should have been a five minutes thing became a half an hour thing, and Grantaire was beyond antsy when he took the stairs in threes back to the flat. Knocking quietly, he stepped inside and found Enjolras sitting on the floor by the coffee table in what must be his dad’s worn dressing gown. His hair was darker now that the curls were wet. When he looked up, Enjolras smiled and Grantaire didn’t know what to say. He smiled back. Enjolras wasn’t wearing makeup any more. It hadn’t lessened his allure one bit.

“You don’t mind?” Enjolras asked pointing to the dressing gown.

“Didn’t even know he had one,” Grantaire confessed. Then he pointed at Enjolras and said, “You were right. You do look different.”

Enjolras smiled a little impishly. “Like I said... you wouldn’t even have noticed me in the street.”

“Oh, I would have noticed you,” Grantaire said quietly and decided to leave it there for the moment. Enjolras looked away and self-consciously pulled the robe tighter.

“There’s nothing to eat... I took your leftovers. I hope you won’t be offended,” Enjolras said.

“I’m not. Enjolras...” Grantaire said and came closer and sat on the floor next to him. 

Once more, Enjolras looked away. “Don’t. I don’t need to be rescued. I can take care of myself.”

“Bullshit of a cliché. That Neanderthal molests you because he can.”

“Or because I let him. Maybe I even like it,” Enjolras challenged him, but Grantaire wasn’t provoked.

“Cliché.”

“So, I’m a cliché. That's nice, Grantaire.”

“No, of course you're not, but you need to figure out what category your feelings belong to. Not even two hours ago, I watched him force himself on to you. You didn’t look like you enjoyed it or let him do it because you liked it.”

Instantly, fury brightened Enjolras' eyes as he looked back at him. “Right, and you just _stood_ there and watched him do it. Not even interfering.”

Grantaire laughed by sheer surprise. “Well, fuck. All right. You're right. My fault this time – but what about the many other times he does it when nobody watches? It didn’t exactly look like that was the first time.”

Ignoring his question, Enjolras got up in an elegant motion. “Thanks for your hospitality, Grantaire. I did need the bath.”

Grantaire got up, too. “I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry. Besides my family, nobody gives a fuck about me. I’m not used to kindness, so don’t take my reluctance personally,” Enjolras said and opened the dressing gown. 

Grantaire’s eyes zoned in on the blond’s body. He was still breathtaking – even as a boy... or maybe because he was. Grantaire wasn’t quite sure on that yet.

“Just so you know. I went through your stuff and took one of your boxers.”

Grantaire’s eyes darted up to Enjolras’ face and then back to his crotch. Hey, those were indeed his boxers.

“No problem. I’ll just use your sparkly ones,” he joked.

Enjolras smiled. “They’re regular. I washed them, but they’re wet. I’ll bring these over whenever...”

“You don't have to. I’ll survive without them.”

“I need an excuse to come over, Grantaire, all right? I’ll bring them, when ever,” Enjolras said.

“Oh...” Grantaire smiled foolishly. “Any time, mate.”

Enjolras smiled with a small chuckle before he dashed out of the front door.

~¤¤¤~

The next day, Grantaire got up at six. He was bleary eyed when he stepped into the shower, but hey... it wasn't so bad getting up early, when it meant he was going to make money.

Feuilly was off on holiday so Grantaire would be meeting his other co-worker, Jehan. When he got downstairs at seven, the individual stood unlocking the door. 

"Jehan?" Grantaire asked, as he stuck his limbs through the matching holes of his Sainsbury work shirt.

"Yeah. Grantaire?"

"In person," Grantaire joked and Jehan stuck out a fist. They shook hands. Jehan’s hand was fine boned, and Grantaire caught himself in time not squeezing too hard. There was an instant likeable aura surrounding Jehan, and Grantaire liked him already.

"Cool. Feuilly texted me you'd show up... That’s very... convenient... Look, I'm sorry about your old man, all right?"

"No worries. Shit happens. We weren't that close, though."

Jehan punched in the code and stood in an angle so Grantaire could watch and learn. 1-3-7-9. Easy. Too, easy.

"You should change the combo. It's much too predictable."

"Oh... You think so?"

"It's the four corners keys. No challenge at all."

"Well, I guess you're right. Anyway..." Jehan said, and stepped into the shop. "Brrrr... so cold when you come from the outside, don't you think? Takes a while to adjust."

Grantaire thought so, but he didn’t mind. 

"Feuilly showed you everything yesterday?"

"Most of it. I can close the shop today."

"That's brilliant, Grantaire."

The faint noise of motorcycles approaching reached his ears.

"What? They come this early?" Grantaire asked, assuming that Jehan would know what he was referring to.

"Yeah. Sometimes they're already here when I open the shop. Gives me the creeps. I even went to school with some of them. Doesn't make it any less creepier."

"Didn’t take long to notice them," Grantaire added. 

"That Félix bloke, though," Jehan said and looked positively uncomfortable just by mentioning his name.

Grantaire nodded. "Only his mother loves him."

"And she's dead," Jehan added. Even that remark still had him looking uncomfortable.

"Let me guess... an accident?" Grantaire said. He knew he was putting on some heavy suspicions he probably had no business putting there, but it wouldn’t surprise him if Félix had something to do with his own mother's demise.

"I just can stand the sight of him. He thinks he's important, but someone who controls others with brutality just has a very small... dick..."

Grantaire laughed. "I hear you, mate." Only, from what Grantaire saw yesterday, Félix was equipped satisfactorily; enough to hurt Enjolras in the restroom. He almost growled at the memory.

"He treats Enjy... it's not right..." Quickly, Jehan looked at Grantaire. "Enjy's his girlfriend," he quickly explained.

"His what?" Grantaire asked to make sure he heard right.

"His girlfriend," Jehan dutifully repeated.

"Enjy’s not..." But Grantaire stopped before he spilled more inside knowledge. Whatever Enjolras needed to get through the day was fine with Grantaire. "Enjy's a girl?" he asked instead.

Jehan smirked. "Enjy’s our little celebrity. Dated someone from London once."

"Ah..." Grantaire said and couldn’t help laughing. It was a little bizarre. "I've dated someone from London. Hell, I _am_ from London," he said, but Jehan didn't hear him - or chose not to. He was obviously smitten with Enjolras. Several of the boys seemed to be apparently.

"Enjy's special."

"What do that mean?"

"Why don't you come with me down to the disco tonight?"

"No shit? You've got a disco?" Grantaire asked, not quite believing his own ears. 

"Weeeell, it's more like Feuilly's garage, really.”

"But wasn’t he on holiday?" Grantaire asked.

"Well, he's at home..."

"Yeah?"

"He's going to Sunny Beach next week to blow off all his money with his girlfriend, but until then, he's at home."

"Right."

"After work we'll go."

"All right then," Grantaire promised him. He could hardly wait to see what the connection was between Enjolras’ celebrity status and the disco.

~¤¤¤~

Grantaire helped Jehan start the day, so that by tomorrow he could do it by himself. All day, Grantaire sat behind the till and by noon, he was close to wringing the neck on the next person who paid their condolences on behalf of Twigs’ passing. His first break was spent in his own room happily moaning the AC’s efficiency. Relaxing on his bed, he hummed noisily to his music while wearing his headphones.

The second break was spent sitting outside the shop with a fag between his fingers, watching the lot; watching Enjolras sitting on Félix's bike. Enjolras was staring directly at Grantaire the whole time and Grantaire stared back.

Félix noticed but he seemed otherwise indifferent about the staring contest between them.

Grantaire didn’t trust that wanker and wished life could be different for Enjolras. But the boy was right yesterday; it wasn't Grantaire’s job to save him. Enjolras always had a choice. He was just bad at picking the right one. Still, Grantaire wished he had the right to interfere, take Enjolras away from this joke of a life, and give him some real opportunities to become something he hopefully always dreamed he could be. A different life that Grantaire had wished for himself, too.

"Bullocks," he muttered and flicked the butt a few meters away, got up, and went back inside the coolness of the store. As he walked toward the counter, Grantaire realised that he'd forgotten to eat lunch. Passing the snack section, he grabbed a lunch bar and went to Jehan to pay.

"My turn," Jehan said and slipped out of the store for his own break.

There were a few people browsing the aisles. They seemed bored and just hung out to have something to do. Grantaire predicted that they'd end up buying soft drinks or alcohol. He took the bar out of its wrapper and munched on it, while he waited in-between customers to come up and pay for their groceries.

All of a sudden, Félix came in. Grantaire wasn't surprised. It seemed inevitable in a way. Nonchalantly, Félix went to the fridge section to pick up what happened to be two six-packs of beer. He put them in a basket. One pack on top of the other.

“I hope you’re not planning on drunk driving with Enjolras on the backseat,” Grantaire said under his breath, but he had no way of knowing if Félix was just buying for the rest of them, in case some were under age.

When Félix showed up at the till, he’d already pulled one can from the top pack and put it on the counter in front of Grantaire to scan. 

"Cheers..." Félix said casually.

“Cheers yourself,” Grantaire said and eyed the beer. A cheap label. “Why don’t you give me one from the pack underneath as well?” he asked. It was a perfectly reasonable request.

“It’s the same,” Félix said.

“Humour me,” Grantaire said coldly but kept his facial expression innocent.

“Fuck you,” Félix said.

“And how long have you been shoplifting... excuse me _mistakenly_ exchanged expensive beer with cheap ones?” he asked Félix.

“Fuck off,” Félix hissed embarrassed as a middle aged man who stood behind in line looked on, clearly not in Félix’s corner. 

“Stupid twat,” the man said.

Ignoring him, Félix thrust one of the beers from the bottom pack at Grantaire, hoping to hit him ‘accidentally’, but Grantaire caught it.

“Thank you,” he said and smiled service minded. Félix paid and was about to pick up his purchases when Grantaire leaned over. “Be grateful that I’m not pressing charges against you and call the police, though I’m sure they’d be thrilled to show you how all the little lamps in their car work.”

Félix took a little step back and did actually look grateful when he hurried toward the exit.

“Stupid little twat,” the man next in line commented again.

“And don’t take it out on Enjy!” Grantaire heard himself shout at Félix.

Félix stopped and turned, clearly taken by surprise. He looked viciously at Grantaire.

“I mean it,” Grantaire growled in his low register of voice.

“Mind your own bloody business,” Félix said.

Grantaire just cocked his head. Threats like that were hollow and, since that was the best he could come up with, Félix hurried out. The automatic door whooshed closed after him. Shortly after, Grantaire heard a motorcycle speed up and drive away.

Jehan came in. “What happened?”

“Nothing... unless you’ve seen something?”

Jehan shrugged.

Grantaire couldn’t help the smirk on his face. Félix owed him one... he owed him a lot for all the theft he’d gotten away with over the years.

~¤¤¤~

That afternoon, Enjolras came into the store. He ran his hands up and down his arms. He wasn't dressed for the cool temperature of the store. Félix had abandoned him again, and he was obviously bored of sitting around on the lot outside.

“Hi,” Jehan said, shooting out of his seat behind the counter and smoothed his hair with his hands. 

_What the hell?_ Grantaire thought amused. He was stocking a shelf nearby and had to suppress laughter. It was actually cute how much Enjolras affected Jehan. 

Sauntering past the infatuated clerk, Enjolras neared Grantaire instead.

“Enj...y...?” Grantaire greeted him not sure how Enjolras wanted to be addressed outside the small realm they’d had yesterday. But it would seem he preferred the girly mask today.

“We’re going to the disco tonight, Enjy,” Jehan said.

“How nice. Coincidentally, so am I,” Enjolras replied but he was looking at Grantaire.

“You look nice, Enjy,” Jehan said. “A little mysterious but I like it.” Jehan’s voice was laced with admiration.

“Thank you, Jehan,” Enjolras said, still looking at Grantaire. “Do you think I look nice, Grantaire?”

Grantaire had to chuckle. Obviously, there was no other option but to agree. He did that gladly though and looked the boy over. “You don't look nice. You look fucking gorgeous,” Grantaire said, because nice girls didn’t look the way Enjolras did. Nice girls were pretty but plain. Enjolras was challenging and forced a person to take a stand to what they were looking at: the way Enjolras dressed, the motion of his body when he walked, the sounds and words of how he talked. And ultimately the confusion they felt looking at the made up face of a girlish boy much too attractive to ignore. And oh, how it messed with their libido. With Grantaire’s, too, even after all the time he’d spent with him.

“Enjy always dresses nicely to the disco,” Jehan continued.

Grantaire looked at him. “Stop talking to him in third person, Jehan.”

“Oh... Sorry, Enjy. I didn’t even realise it.”

“That’s all right, Jehan. Grantaire is just being an arsehole.”

“I’m an arsehole?” Grantaire said and got up.

Enjolras looked away. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Jehan, I’m taking a break... with Enj...y.” It was difficult to remember. 

“Sure... I’ll just...” Jehan said, but they’d left the store before he'd finished his sentence.

“Are you really going to the disco?” Enjolras asked when they entered his flat.

“Look, Enjolras. I’m sick of this already. I’m sure you get a lot of kicks out of teasing the townies, but I’m not from around here and I’m not interested in you.”

“You so are. That's why you’re having this Prince Charming complex that needs to come to my rescue when I’m in distress. But I’m not in distress. You just think I am, so you can bulge those muscles and...”

“Oh, please!! Don’t flatter yourself,” Grantaire hrmped.

Enjolras didn’t answer but went and sat down on Grantaire’s bed. Looking around, it seemed like he only noticed it now. Yesterday, he had felt miserable compared to the bravado he was flaunting again. Grantaire sighed, came over, and sat down next to him. 

“I think we could be great friends actually,” Grantaire said, “We seem to be able to tell each other exactly what we feel.”

“I don’t want to be your friend,” Enjolras said.

“See?” Grantaire said and smiled.

Enjolras smiled, too, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. “I’d better go. I have at least a half an hour walk from here.”

“I’ll take you home,” Grantaire said.

“I don't think so. Félix will just blow that out of proportion.”

“Oh... right,” Grantaire had forgotten that Enjolras was living with the animal. “You need to change?”

“For the disco? Hell, yes,” Enjolras said and laughed. His large blue eyes were literally sparkling.

Bugger. Why did he have to be so dazzling? Grantaire didn’t even think that the word covered satisfactorily. “What will you be wearing?” he asked and looked at the v-shaped top Enjolras wore. Grantaire liked how the stretchy material clung to his body. He could see his pectoral muscles and they looked like tiny... 

Swallowing Grantaire realised that Enjolras’ nipples were hard. All full of wishful thinking, he wondered if it was because of the temperature or because Enjolras was a little aroused by the thought of them sitting together on his bed. Grantaire realised he was the one who was probably the most aroused and decided he didn’t care if Enjolras saw it. He was most likely used to all kinds of creeps saluting him. What a drag that had to be.

Enjolras also had on some sweat shorts rounded in the sides. There was an 80’s feel to them, and Grantaire liked the retro look. 

Grantaire realised that as his eyes slid around Enjolras’ body, because Enjolras was doing the same to him. He enjoyed the attention.

“Are you done staring?”

Enjolras asked waspishly.

Grantaire jerked back to focus on him. “Yes... are you?”

“I’m not staring,” the blond denied immediately.

“If you say so.”

“Don’t do that routine. I hate that.”

“Then stop acting like a bitch and own it if you’re attracted to me,” Grantaire gave back.

Enjolras snapped his mouth shut and got up. “See you later... and no. I don't want a lift.”

“Fine... I just don’t think it’s a good idea to walk home in this heat.”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “Fine. Then tell Jehan he can drop me off.”

“What? Jehan can do it?” Grantaire asked. He hadn’t thought about that option.

“It’s not exactly the first time, gods,” Enjolras said as if Grantaire ought to know.

Grantaire didn’t like that thought. Did he pay Jehan to take him home? No... Jehan literally treated Enjolras like a princess. Fine then. Jehan was probably a better choice than Grantaire himself right now.

“You know... it’s not like I suddenly need your permission, Grantaire,” Enjolras said, "You assume a lot about me, even though I'm not your fucking anything."

Rolling his eyes, Grantaire knew Enjolras was right. Grantaire should stop thinking he was going to make a difference in Enjolras’ life just because he showed up like one day ago. Business as usual was apparently preferred. He would have to remember that. Then Enjolras flung himself in Grantaire’s arms. Stunned, Grantaire wrapped his arms around his body reflexively, and let the boy kiss him on the mouth. Then Enjolras seemed to realise what he was doing. Freeing himself, he hurried out. 

Grantaire just stood there gaping. With that kind of behaviour, Grantaire had no chance of figuring out what the hell Enjolras was about,. Not all right by any means. He was probably just trying to hold on to any thread of self control he could muster.

Grantaire really wanted to help, but he was constantly conflicted by what he wanted to do, should do, and what Enjolras expected from him: One moment nothing and the next... 

Touching his lips, Grantaire smiled. Well, he just got a kiss from a very pretty boy.

When he returned to the store, he found Enjolras outside by Jehan’s car waiting for Grantaire to cover for Jehan, so he could take him home.

“Be careful. Félix’s in a foul mood I’m sure,” Grantaire warned Jehan.

“I know,” Jehan said and then smiled. “Hey... you’ve got Enjy’s lipstick on your cheek.”

“What?” Grantaire said and frowned. Then he rubbed the cheek, Enjolras had kissed. 

“Busted, mate. So she did kiss you?” Jehan laughed. “Just kidding. I wished she’d use lipstick though. Waterproof lipstick.”

“Fine,” Grantaire said, accepting that Jehan just couldn’t get it over his lips to refer to Enjolras as ‘he’.

“I’ll be back to pick you up after work,” Jehan said.

“Uhu...” Grantaire said distractedly. They both stood in the door to the store. There were no customers at the moment, and Enjolras was slowly making a half circle in the gravel with his shoe. Then he fished out a crumbled pack of cigarettes and put a fag in his mouth. His eyes darted up and caught Grantaire’s before he struck a match and lit up. It was pure porn and Enjolras knew it by the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a little smirk. He just never would have thought Enjolras would smoke. Perhaps he didn't. Maybe it was just a message Grantaire couldn't decipher. His cock like what his eyes saw. Damn.

Grantaire had to go inside. Discretely, he adjusted his hard on in the office. When he moved to stand by the till, he heard the sound of car doors shutting and they were gone.

~¤¤¤~

An hour went by, and Grantaire was bored out of his mind. There was perhaps one customer every ten minutes and the minutes in between were long and dull. He stocked a few shelves now and then, but even that task seemed tedious when he was all alone.

He wondered what to wear at the disco tonight and snorted. He was curious what these people considered a disco. Back in London, it was basically clubbing, but at least there was a bar, music worth dancing to and girls... Grantaire stopped. Funny... since he'd met Enjolras, he hadn't thought about girls. That was disturbing... Enjolras had way too much power for being a boy. It would be healthy to go to the disco and check out what the rest of the birds looked like in Wilt’s Cove.

There were of course the other girls in the lot with their motorcycle boyfriends, but they blurred into something dis-interesting compared to how Enjolras shined out there... literally.

Finally, Grantaire heard the noise of a car and hopeful, he stepped outside to check if it was Jehan coming. He was.

"Hey..." Jehan said and nodded when he approached Grantaire.

"All right, mate?" Grantaire asked.

Jehan's hair whirled slightly in a sudden wind gust. "Yeah. Félix wouldn't let me follow Enjy inside... Just yanked her into the house."

"His house?"

"They live together," he reminded Grantaire.

"Right."

Jehan stepped into the store and Grantaire followed. Jehan seemed distracted but then he just went and sat behind the till looking straight ahead. Grantaire didn’t ask for more details. Somehow he knew the rest of that story anyway.

 

Eventually, the time came for them to close the store. Apparently, Jehan had some change of clothes in his car. Grantaire offered his bathroom for him to wash up. 

"You look flashy," Jehan said to Grantaire.

"Oh... too much for the disco?" Grantaire asked looking down at his dark green jeans and black long-sleeved t-shirt with a brocade waistcoat on top. 

"No... I'm sure people will like it. Don’t see gear that expensive around here much."

"Too flashy them," Grantaire concluded.

"Nonono... I'm just not the best person to ask such questions," Jehan said. His own outfit was a long velvet lilac jacket on top of a yellow shirt. Grantaire couldn't help thinking about the 60’s and flower power. Jehan did have that vibe.

"All right. No worries, mate," Grantaire said.

"Let's go then," Jehan said.

"Do I need to bring money?" Grantaire asked.

"Yeah. If you want booze then you do."

"Could we bring some from the store... I mean paid for of course?"

"Next time. I don’t want to set the alarm again," Jehan said. “I have something in the car if we get desperate.”

"I'm cool then," Grantaire said.

Jehan just smiled and moments later, they were headed for Feuilly's garage.

Coldplay blasted from the open garage when they arrived. Lots of cars were parked haphazardly where ever the driver had seen fit, and Jehan did the same further up the road when he found a spot.

Grantaire got out of the car and waited for Jehan to lock it, but that never happened. Instead, they went back down the road until they stood in front of the garage getting a feel of the party.

"Hell, I'm impressed," Grantaire laughed although in a small way he was, because it seemed like a garden party where everybody showed up to have a great time. And everybody knew everyone. In London, Grantaire wouldn't have known a single person. Or maybe it was just the kind of establishments he picked. Places for singles trying to hook up with other singles they didn’t know.

Zoning in on the crowd happily dancing everywhere, Grantaire had to admit it looked like fun. Feuilly's garage was bigger than he'd imagined and easily housed thirty-forty people - and did so.

Suddenly, he saw Enjolras. The boy was out on the dance floor dancing like he owned the floor. Grantaire couldn’t detect any particular dance partner. Félix certainly wasn't close by. Grantaire scanned the room and found him sitting at the improvised bar in the back. His eyes were glued to Enjolras like a hawk ready to lash out.

"He's up there," Jehan said close to Grantaire’s ear.

"Yeah. I noticed."

"He always just sits there and makes everybody else uncomfortable."

"Why not just tell him to sod off?"

"Feuilly... wouldn’t do that."

"Oh, don't tell me. Feuilly's also in love with Enj...y...?" Grantaire remembered to ad. “Everybody seems in love with...”

"I’m not in love with Enjy," Jehan protested.

"All right... Enjy just awes you?"

"Yeah! Of course!" Jehan laughed. "She's pretty awesome. Look at those jeans!" he said and pointed to the crowd.

Grantaire noticed. Enjolras wore some... festive clothes. Tight black jeans with ripped knees and a regular t-shirt for once but it was soaked with sweat and again, the tightness of the material made Grantaire’s pants tighten, not unexpectedly. Shrugging, he gathered that was a physical reaction from most of the guys present. There were a lot of birds in small dresses out there on the dance floor, and Grantaire figured he should try and make contact to at least one of them tonight. However, the moment he began to move onto the dance floor, Enjolras appeared in front of him swaying a little, looking drunk and carefree.

"Cheers, Grantaire," he said. A bottle of beer had found its way to his hand, hanging from his fingertips.

"Hi, Enjolras. Having a good time?"

"I knew you'd come. Jehan told me," Enjolras said and leaned closer to make sure Grantaire could hear him.

"You knew already this afternoon, remember? But yeah. I had to see this place for myself."

"Pretty cool, huh?"

"It's all right. More intimate perhaps."

"I’m sure you... fr... ju... and..." the rest drowned in the next song.

Grantaire shook his head. “Can’t hear a bloody thing!”

Enjolras pointed outwards, indicating he wanted Grantaire to step out of the garage.

Grantaire darted a quick look at Félix. He was still sitting there looking mean and dissatisfied.

Out of the garage, it became possible to talk without exactly shouting.

"How was your afternoon?" Grantaire asked.

"What are you really asking?"

Enjolras said, taking a swig of his bottle.

"Fuck... I’m really asking if you got home without Félix hurting you. But I know," Grantaire said and held his hands up in surrender. "None of my business."

"She got home just fine," a voice said behind Grantaire.

Grantaire spun around, but he knew it belonged to Félix before he even laid eyes on him.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and slowly turned. “I don't need a pissing contest between the two of you;” each hand pointing at either of them.

“Enjy? Go back inside. I want to watch you dance,” the older man told the blond.

“Not now. I’m having a conversation out here, Félix.”

Félix gritted his teeth. “I said, get back inside, you little faggot cunt!” Then he lost his temper, stepped in, and went to grab the front of Enjolras’ neck to push him in the direction of the garage. Enjolras looked terrified at Grantaire, as he tried to get back his balance.

“He’s not your bloody bitch! Jesus buggering Christ!” Grantaire burst out and took a few long strides to reach them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jehan approach. The look on his face was disturbing to say the least and, before any of them understood what happened, Grantaire heard a dull sound coming from Félix. 

The biker's arms fell away from the grasp he'd kept on Enjolras’ neck. He sunk to his knees before he almost comically keeled over and fell on his side. He didn’t move.

Enjolras looked like he didn’t know if he was going to scream or faint.

Grantaire hurried to him. "Enjolras? Get inside, now! You were not out here and you didn’t see a bloody thing. Jehan and I never arrived. We were not here."

"But what if anyone saw you?" Enjolras asked wildly.

"Get the bloody fuck inside, Enjolras!” Grantaire pushed him unkindly, “and don’t look at anybody. They'll just ask you why you look like you just saw a ghost. MOVE!!" Adrenaline was pumping through Grantaire’s body as he watched Enjolras hurry back into the garage. His hands shook badly, as Enjolras disappeared into the throng of dancing bodies.

The noise from the garage had effectively cut off whatever shouts had come from the people involved in the ruckus outside. Nobody came after them and nobody noticed the body in the dark grass, still they had to get away.

Grantaire finally noticed Jehan and grabbed his arm.

"I had to do it. I couldn’t take it anymore," Jehan babbled.

Grantaire wrestled the weapon out of Jehan’s hand. It was a simple kitchen knife. "Let's just get back to the car."

Jehan just stood there as if he was going into shock anytime soon. He was shaking badly. All right, so he was already in shock. Grantaire didn't think his own condition was much better. He dared not to think of how Enjolras was taking it inside the garage. Hopefully, someone found the bastard quickly, so Enjolras could stop pretending nothing had happened.

He managed to get back to the car and helped Jehan into the backseat. Squinting his eyes, Grantaire thought he could detect some commotion around the spot where Félix laid. People had found him and would call for help.

Grantaire hadn't had time to process why he didn’t feel the need to call 112. He'd been more interested in making sure his friends wouldn't be connected to the crime that they had all just witnessed. He should feel guilty but he didn't - he felt pretty good about it.

He thought Félix had had it coming from the moment he saw his fucked up behaviour in the restroom and ever since. Félix was not a good person, and Grantaire understood why Jehan had done it. Just a couple more days watching Félix demonstrating his dominance over Enjolras, and Grantaire might have been able to do it himself.

“Jehan? Can you drive?” Grantaire asked, but the younger man shook his head. “Fuck it, I’ll drive. Would be nice to get away before the police arrives.”

Jehan handed him the keys, and Grantaire drove about a kilometre and parked in the shade of some trees. Jehan looked crappy, and Grantaire had to take care of him. Finding a blanket in the back of the car, Grantaire wrapped Jehan in it and sat with the younger man in his arms. The sirens of the law were heard in the distance, and two police cars and an ambulance rushed past them.

A soon as Jehan stopped shaking and seemed to get better, Grantaire drove them back to the store, and together they went up to Grantaire’s flat. The kitchen knife was dropped in the sink and Grantaire began to clean it meticulously.

“You want to turn yourself in?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Jehan said. “I need to think.”

“How long have you planned that?” 

“Always. Since the first time I saw them in the rest room.”

“I saw them, too. Hell, it was only yesterday.”

“Enjy is so kind. You have no idea. And then that-that fucking _lecherous_ arsehole...”

“What’s the story really about, Jehan?”

“I’ve been there for Enjy most of our lives. We grew up together.”

“So he is from here?”

“No. She wasn’t born here.”

“Why do you call Enjolras a girl?”

“To protect her... him,” Jehan shrugged.

“From Félix?”

“Yeah. Was easier to just fall into the role for me because he asked me to. Enjy created this character to make it easier to control Félix in what little way he was able to.”

“So he didn’t always dress so... girlish?”

“No. Well, Enjy’s always been attractive to all people. Boys and girls. Everybody wanted to know him. Félix was into Enjy’s type, and you know how he is. Passive aggressive. Enjy had no chance of ever saying he did not want to be with him. He forced that relationship onto him. Literally told Enjy to dress in a certain way. Enjy figured the rest out himself.”

“Does Enjolras like to dress like that?”

“I suppose he likes the clothes... but also because of the position it gives him.”

“But you’re not sure he actually likes the clothes?” Grantaire asked.

Jehan looked thoughtful and nodded. “I’m actually not sure he does. Maybe I just assume because he began dressing like that privately.”

“Perhaps to anticipate that Félix dropped by? Oh, right. They live together, but before they lived together?” Grantaire asked, although it was kind of moot asking that now. “Depends on how long they’ve lived together... did he force Enjolras to live with him?”

“Yeah... but at the time it was either staying with Félix or his mum and stepdad.”

“Stepdad...” Grantaire inhaled deeply. 

“Yeah...” Jehan said and picked at a small scab. “He’s dead... recently. Thank god. Now he only has to deal with Félix.”

“Or not. We don’t know what state we left him in.”

“Right,” Jehan said and frowned. “I almost forgot I stabbed him just now.”

“How are you?” Grantaire asked.

“I’m brilliant. Fine.” Jehan shrugged.

“I don't think anyone saw us.”

“If he survives, he’ll tell who did it.”

“We’ll see.”

“If he doesn’t die from it, I’ll do it again,” Jehan said matter of fact.

 _Jesus..._ Grantaire thought with a shudder. Then he got up and went to the bathroom to take a leek. When he came back, Jehan had left. 

The knife was gone, too.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

 

The next morning, everything seemed normal. Jehan was there when Grantaire showed up at the store. He seemed pretty serene, and Grantaire decided not to talk about it unless Jehan volunteered.

Outside was a quiet display. The bikers were there, but it was obvious they were talking about what happened yesterday.

Enjolras was not there, and Grantaire was worried about him. He was tempted to go out and ask them what was wrong, because their behaviour was so influenced by last night's drama. He was also curious if they had any clue as to who had done it; if Félix had been able to tell anybody who his attacker was.

“The police came by my place this morning,” Jehan mentioned casually.

Grantaire came and stood in front of the counter. Jehan was finally addressing the elephant in the room.

“They come by that early?”

“Apparently.”

“So... uh... so what did they want?” Grantaire asked.

“Just if I’d seen anything unusual outside yesterday at Feuilly’s and here.”

“Out here?” Grantaire asked and couldn't help turn and look toward the lot.

“Yeah. The lot.”

“And had you?” Grantaire asked. One could never know with Jehan.

“No. Funnily enough I hadn’t paid attention to much at Feuilly’s party. And out there... Nothing unusual, actually. You were the one who witnessed Félix rape Enjy, right?”

Grantaire looked down. That was probably what happened, but Enjolras had been sending mixed signals. “At the time, I wasn’t sure. I’m wiser now.”

“You were turned on,” Jehan stated and looked at him.

Grantaire felt like shit now.

“Hey, don't worry about it. It’s natural for a man to...”

“Don't even, Jehan! Of course, I worry. I don’t watch porn. It doesn’t turn me on. Two strange males shagging in a restroom should even less.” Grantaire looked sincerely at Jehan. “You should visit him. Check out what’s going on. As Enjolras' friend, that’s the most natural thing you can do. And we need to know what happened.”

“Fuck...” Jehan said softly.

“I can handle the store while you’re gone.”

“I know you can,” Jehan said and smiled uncomfortable.

Grantaire frowned. “D’you want me to do it?”

“Would you?” Jehan asked immediately.

“You should just have said so,” Grantaire said and smiled disarmingly.

“All right... I could have done that.”

“I’ll leave right away.”

“This is the address,” Jehan said and grabbed a pen and paper to write it down. “Can you find it?” 

“I can always find it,” Grantaire said as he walked out of the store. Running up the stairs, he located his helmet and bounced back just as fast and got to his bike. Looking up for a few seconds, he looked at the bikers who looked back just as curiously.

“She’s not here,” one of the girls called out.

“Who isn’t?”

“Um... Enjy. Enjy’s not here.”

“I can see that, but thanks just the same.” Grantaire sat down on the seat heavily and fastened his helmet. “Why would I want to know that?”

“You just seemed interested yesterday,” the girl said, having come closer.

“Sure. Have a nice day.”

“Did you hear?” one of the blokes said. 

“Hear what? Grantaire asked.

“About Félix.”

“No.” Grantaire got off the bike slowly walked to meet him. “What is it?” he relaxed his stance even though the adrenaline was slowly but surely sending pins of anticipation through his veins.

“He was attacked last night.”

“Yeah? And...?” Grantaire encouraged him to continue.

“Well, somebody stabbed him with a knife.”

“There was a fight?”

“Yeah. Enjy was not hurt...” was quickly added, but Grantaire ignored that.

“What happened?”

“We don't know. We just found Félix outside.”

“How is he?”

“Not well.”

“He survived the stabbing?” Grantaire asked, careful not to leave an opinion about it.

“Well, yeah. Barely.”

“All right. Lucky for him, I suppose,” Grantaire said and turned to go back to his bike. For just a moment, he allowed himself to wonder if any of the bikers had noticed he and Jehan arrive last night at Feuilly's garage. If someone had, they never told the police. With the interest Grantaire had shown Enjolras, anybody with a pair of eyes would know he should be a person of interest to the police. But nobody had asked for him.

_Luckily for me, too._

~¤¤¤~

So Félix had survived the attack, which meant he would be able to identify his attacker. Grantaire needed more information. Was he conscious and would he in fact be able to identify Jehan? And Grantaire for that matter, who just left him helpless on the ground; just as guilty as Jehan.

As he drove toward Enjolras’ address, he played out dozens of scenarios in his head of what to tell the police, if someone decided they'd witnessed him at the crime scene after all. Fabricating a defence was nerve wrecking. Grantaire had never broken the law before, so well done for just having arrived 48 hours prior.

At least he had a lawyer.

Eventually, he turned up at Enjolras’ home on a dull street with boring small identical terraced houses. Grantaire found the right house and pushed the button. After ringing four times, he stepped away and looked up at the windows. A second later, Enjolras opened the door wearing a bathrobe. 

“You?”

“Yeah. Jehan sent me.”

“I thought it was the police.”

“Well, it’s not.”

Enjolras looked tired and at the end of his wits.

“Can I come in?”

Looking back towards the hall, Enjolras shook his head. “No. I’ll come with you. I don’t want you to see this.”

Fair enough. 

“Pack a few things. You can stay over at my place if you want for a few days... unless you want to stay with your mum?”

“No. I’ll stay with you. That would be great. Wait outside.” Enjolras closed the door.

Grantaire went to sit on the steps to wait. 

Half an hour went by before Enjolras re-emerged.

“Hi. Sorry it took so long.”

Grantaire got up. Enjolras was wearing blue jeans cut off mid thigh and a white tank top. He looked like a sweet boy. Grantaire reached out and grabbed the shoulder bag Enjolras was holding, but Enjolras pulled and refused to let him.

“You can get away with doing that to a bird, but I’m not a bird. I can carry my own stuff.”

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire apologised but wasn’t particularly sorry.

Enjolras shrugged and thrust the bag at him nevertheless. “Just remember that for another time,” he said.

“I will,” Grantaire promised amused.

Enjolras locked the door and came down to Grantaire’s bike. “Got another helmet?”

“Yeah, in the compartment.” Grantaire unlocked the box behind the seat and pulled out a helmet for Enjolras.

“Thanks. Are we going straight home?” Enjolras asked and placed the shoulder strap across his body when Grantaire handed back the bag.

 _Home..._ Grantaire liked that Enjolras already associated his flat with home, but maybe they needed to talk someplace else first.

“Later. Some other place to talk, perhaps?”

“I know a place,” Enjolras said and directed Grantaire once they were seated on the bike. 

About then minutes later, they arrived at the outskirts of Wilt's Cove. Grantaire parked the bike close to a small opening of trees on the top of a steep slope toward an overgrown gravel pit. It looked like a little park of wild flowers and bushes.

“Wow. That’s quite...”

“It’s not dashing or anything. We have a park... but it’s certain no one else comes up here and interrupts... whatever I’m doing.”

“Did you come here with Félix?”

“Not a chance. I never took anybody up here before. I found it running away from my stepdad... once. Occasionally, I manage to sneak up here.”

“Well, thanks for trusting me knowing about it. I’m flattered,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras nodded and slowly walked toward the edge of the slope. Sitting down in the dry grass, he let his long legs dangle freely.

Grantaire came and squatted behind him. He knew Enjolras was just a boy, not a girl, but he was helplessly drawn to his personality. Gently, he put his hands on Enjolras’ naked shoulders. 

Enjolras inhaled sharply and words rushed out, “The police asked me if I saw who did it or if I had any idea who’d want to hurt him. I almost laughed. Yes, the whole fucking population of Wilt’s Cove wouldn’t mind hurting Félix.”

“What did you tell them?” Grantaire asked.

“Nothing. I was dancing in the tent when it happened,” Enjolras said tonelessly.

“So you were. I remember I saw you in there,” Grantaire played along. He massaged the sun kissed roundness in his hands. “How do you feel?”

“I was taken to the hospital. They said I went into shock when someone from the crew said they'd found Félix lying out there...”

“We were all in shock. I took care of Jehan and myself.”

“Good. I only got home around lunch.”

“People are worried...”

“No, they’re not fucking worried,” Enjolras said, brushed Grantaire's hands off, and got up. Grantaire got up, too. “They’re relieved that he’s immobilised in the hospital. He lost a lot of blood. Nobody is worried if he won’t survive. Nobody is interested in him getting better.”

“So...”

“I only worry about Jehan trying to do it again. He might get caught the next time. He'd never survive prison. He'd be ripped apart, Grantaire.”

Grantaire tried to reach out and grab his hand, but Enjolras took a step further away.

“I could have done it many times in his sleep, you know? Just... Gotten out of bed and done it...”

“You’re so calm about all of this. Both of you are,” Grantaire said, thrilled but also a little terrified about the way Enjolras was conducting himself.

Enjolras took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. “I should probably be more upset but I’m not. I’m so fucking relieved. Everybody’s relieved. I don’t even think the police are that anxious to find out who did it. But let’s not talk about it. I’m not upset. I hate him. I've always fucking hated him.”

“All right. Not upset at all. We’ll not talk about it then.”

"Right." Enjolras nodded and smiled. Grantaire smiled back and ran a hand over the blond curls. It was difficult not wanting to do it.

“Do you like me?” Enjolras asked, fishing for complements.

“I like you, yeah.”

“But like you said, you’re not really gay, are you, Grantaire?”

“No... can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of discovering that.”

“Would it in fact have been a pleasure...”

“Probably bad choice of words on my part.”

“Yeah... pleasure.”

“You’re um... you’re a good looking kid.”

“Thanks. Though I’m hardly much younger than you... _kid_ ,” Enjolras looked up and smiled again, his sharp cheeks once more transforming his face into this genderless confusing loveliness. 

Grantaire smiled back. “Jehan adores you.”

“Yeah. And I adore him. He’s the only person besides my mum who loves me. What do you think?”

“Should we really..?”

“I think we should. I need to talk about something else. Something that makes me feel good.”

Grantaire put his arms around Enjolras’ waist. He felt warm and Grantaire pulled him a little closer. Enjolras shivered delicately and wound his arms around Grantaire. Grantaire moved his arms higher and embraced Enjolras’ upper body instead.

“This is nice,” Enjolras said.

“It is.”

“Fancy a shag?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire was taken aback even though he’d entertained the thought more times in his head than he could count by now. “Um... now?”

“No... whenever?”

“Um... Yesterday... I should probably admit that two days ago when I saw you in that lot, I wanted to shag you.. badly... But then I realised you might not be a girl after all... and I still wanted to shag you. Never happened to me before.” Grantaire chuckled a little apprehensively. “Gods, I couldn’t stand Félix at first sight. He knows how to piss off people.”

“You saw us in the restroom.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t interfere. I felt like a deer in the headlights... As much as I was repulsed by what I saw, I was also turned on, and I’m sorry...”

“It’s all right. Félix loves when people catch us doing it.”

“What a wanking bastard. Did you like it... when people saw you?” He regretted the question the moment he asked, but alas... it was too late.

“How can you even ask?” Enjolras said. “He did it to humiliate me. Made me feel like his whore. Would you like it if people just stood there watching you having sex while being trapped?” He looked pained as if he was remembering it all again.

“Um... no. Fuck... I’m not turned on by having an audience... Again, I apologise that seeing you have sex turned me on. Had you been my g... boyfriend, I would never subject you to something that sullies what is supposed to be all about trust between two people. Intimacy between lovers is... um...” Grantaire frowned not knowing what he was saying. He had actually never experienced those things with his own partners. Maybe he was a hypocrite... or maybe casual sex was a thing of the past since he met Enjolras? As he said those words, he knew that he would actually feel this if he was Enjolras’ boyfriend. Another new concept to analyse in connection to himself.

“You actually mean that or are they just pretty words in case you got lucky?” Enjolras asked, looking slightly upset.

“What? No! This, I actually believe.”

“All right, no matter what. I never wanted to have sex with Félix in the first place.”

“Well, I never would have wanted to have sex with Félix either...”

“At least we have s-something in common now.”

Still holding Enjolras in his arms, he pulled away a little. “What's the matter? Would you like to come home to my place, now?”

“I... I think so." Enjolras looked less certain now. "Yes. I would like that. B-but not until the crew has dispersed.” He was stuttering and Grantaire wasn't sure what was going on. It happened so fast.

“We can do that. You don’t want to talk about Félix to them?”

“I don't want to talk to anybody,” Enjolras said closing his eyes.

Grantaire embraced him again and enjoyed how their bodies seemed to fit.

“Just... d-don’t fuck me too soon, all right?” Enjolras whispered out of context.

“What the fuck? Enjolras, you’re so fucked up in your little head right now. I’m not touching you until you want me to. What is wrong?” Grantaire was finally paying attention to Enjolras' odd behaviour.

“Just... We can..." Enjolras said dropping his head on Grantaire's shoulder. "W-we'll just do this. This is...” Enjolras’ voice trailed away, and Grantaire barely managed to catch him as his body slipped between his hands.

Shocked, Grantaire looked to the side. They were barely a meter from the edge of the slope. Just two more steps, and Enjolras could have... It could have been..., but he wasn't. Enjolras was lying unconscious on the ground. 

"One day I'll run out of luck," Grantaire said and carefully picked him up.

~¤¤¤~

Grantaire took Enjolras to the hospital.

Stress.

That was the diagnose. The matter with Félix was likely the cause, but Grantaire wouldn't be surprised if trauma caused by the stepdad could have triggered Enjolras' collapse, too.

A nurse gave him some medication for the stress and, since Enjolras didn’t want to stay there over night, Grantaire took him home. The bikers were gone by then, and Enjolras could enter Grantaire’s flat with no questions asked.

“I just need to sleep,” Enjolras said exhausted and Grantaire let him go to bed. He sat with him until he fell asleep, then he went downstairs to talk to Jehan.

The poor bloke had been alone all day, and Grantaire offered him to go home.

“So? Some of the crew told me he’s not dead...”

“That’s true. Enjolras told me that, too.”

“Police suspects nothing?”

“Not a thing.”

“He’s bad off.”

“Yeah,” Grantaire said. "Enjolras had a break down, so I took him to the hospital. He’s better now!" he quickly added when he saw Jehan's eyes widen in concern. "They gave him some medicine for the stress he’s going through.”

“All right. That’s good.”

“Jehan...”

“I’m all right. Don't worry about me.”

But Grantaire was very worried. “Don't do anything stupid.”

“Like what? Killing him twice?” Jehan said tonelessly.

“Something like that.”

But Jehan smiled brightly the next. “No. Let him die a slow and pointless death in that hospital.”

“Um... What exactly do you mean?”

“Let’s just say that they're experiencing some trouble stopping wounds not related to the stabbing from bleeding.”

“Jehan?” Grantaire asked but the strange smile stayed on Jehan’s lips as he turned and left. Jehan had planned to stab Félix last night. Why last night and not any other day the past many months, or for how long Félix had made Enjolras’ life miserable?

The evening dragged away and Grantaire bought himself something to eat. There weren't many customers throughout the evening and being alone was as usual a drag.

Finally, Grantaire could close the store and tired, he went back upstairs, ready to fall asleep. When he entered the flat he had almost forgotten Enjolras was there in spite of thinking about him most of his free moments all evening.

Enjolras looked like he slept but when Grantaire slipped under the covers, he opened his eyes and smiled. 

"Hey."

"Hey yourself," Grantaire whispered. "How are you?"

"Tired," Enjolras replied and closed his eyes. "But I'm rested. Haven't been rested for so long. Always felt tense, so thank you."

Grantaire took the hand that lay next to Enjolras’ head on the sheet. Enjolras opened his eyes again and sighed.

"Do you like me?"

Grantaire smiled wryly. "I don’t think there's been a point where I didn’t like you."

"Don’t break my heart then."

"I won't do it intentionally." 

"Take me away from here?"

"But I only just arrived."

"But some day?"

"Enjolras... how long have you lived here?"

"Six bloody years."

“How old are you?"

“Nineteen... you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Félix is... um... thirty-one."

An age gap of twelve years. Grantaire had a problem with that.

"How long were you together?"

"Since I was seventeen."

Grantaire did the math in his head and liked the result even less. "Did you... you know... right away?"

"Not right away, but you can imagine the thrill for me the first time, right?"

Grantaire winced. Unfortunately, he could.

"Wasn't all bad..."

"Don’t. I understand. But the difference is that it wasn't exactly great every time either, was it?"

The look on Enjolras’ face pulled at Grantaire’s heartstrings.

"Come here," he whispered and Enjolras moved toward him immediately.

Wrapping his arms around Enjolras, Grantaire lay awake for a while. He felt Enjolras’ breathing even out and he must had fallen asleep. Grantaire was tired but he relished having Enjolras in his arms. Its contentment was strange. Very strange.

Tomorrow was Sunday. The store was closed on Sundays. They could sleep in.

~¤¤¤~

Grantaire woke up feeling he was being watched. Opening his eyes, he found Enjolras looking at him.

“Hey,” Enjolras said.

“Hey. All right?”

“Félix died during the night.”

Grantaire just looked at him. “How would you know?” he finally asked.

“Jehan texted me.”

“And you believed him? Jehan was kind of scary when he left last night. Talked about bleeding not related to the stabbing.”

“Well, yeah. That’s how he died. Not from the stabbing but from internal bleeding.”

“I think you two are fucking with me.”

Enjolras shook his head. “No fucking. Félix is a haemophiliac. Nobody but Jehan and I knew.”

Grantaire looked at him. “And you exploited that? How the hell did he survive the stabbing in the first place?”

“Hey!” Enjolras sat up on his elbow. “Do you think I had anything to do with this?”

“I honestly don’t know what to think, Enjolras!”

“Grantaire... I didn’t have anything to do with Jehan’s plans. But at the same time, I never told him not to do it when he mentioned he wanted Félix out of my life. I always assumed he meant it rhetorically.”

Grantaire looked intently at Enjolras. “What exactly is the bond between you and Jehan?”

“Jehan’s my stepbrother.”

“Ooooh...” Grantaire had to swallow. That was actually shocking. Then he’d completely misread Jehan’s bizarre interest in Enjolras. Jehan was his brother! In a way, that was even sicker. Grantaire was definitely still not getting the entire picture of that relationship. “Was Jehan beaten by him, too?”

“My stepdad? Yeah. He was Jehan’s stepdad, too. Only link is our mums. Jehan’s mum was involved first. She died... I didn’t know her, but Jehan and his older sister Floréal stayed with the creep. Then my mum came into the picture dragging me along and Floréal quit home. We fought that arsehole, Jehan and I...” Enjolras looked like he was lost in ugly memories for a while, and Grantaire just held him.

“So um... how did your stepdad die?”

“I don’t know. One day he was gone... then the police came around later having found him. From the wounds, it looked like he was hit by a car. Nobody exactly cried at the funeral. I always suspected Jehan and Floréal had something to do with it, but...”

“Christ...” Grantaire rubbed his hand across his face and breathed out. “You’ve got some fucked up family history.” But then, his own family relations weren’t exactly picture perfect either.

“So, Félix's dead...”

“Jehan said so.”

“Well, why don’t we establish that he is in fact kicking the daisies, hm? Somehow I don't trust declarations from Jehan at the moment.” He waved his hand to illustrate the instability of Jehan’s frame of mind.

Enjolras took a shaky breath. “I can’t handle it if he isn’t dead to be honest.”

“Stay here. You don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks,” Enjolras said and nodded. “In that case, I want to stay here, Grantaire.”

“That’s fine,” Grantaire said and nodded back. “I’ll go and figure out some things then, yeah?”

Getting dressed, Grantaire skipped a shower and left the flat. Outside the young crowd was gathered even though the shop was closed. Slowly he wandered over and greeted them.

“Any news?” he asked and crossed his arms over his chest and stared intensely at the bloke who spoke out yesterday.

“Félix’s still unconscious.”

“I see. So still not out of the clear?”

“No.”

Grantaire nodded, turned, and went to his bike. 

“Why do you care?” the biker asked.

Grantaire shrugged with a wry smile. “Why do you?” he responded, daring the bloke to say he actually liked Félix enough to worry about his well being.

“I don't,” he finally answered.

Tutting with an amused glint in his eyes, Grantaire began to fiddle around his bike, adjusting bits and bobs for about half an hour before he went back upstairs.

Enjolras was still in bed, snoozing under the duvet. As soon as Grantaire came in, he looked up. “Took your time, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well. So, Félix's not dead, but he’s not out of danger either.”

“Fuck,” Enjolras moaned. 

“Hey...” Grantaire said and sat down next to him. “What would you like to do if you could do anything you wanted?”

“Leave. And never return. I’d take my mum along and we’d finally have a normal life.”

“What does your mum do for a living?”

“She’s a... she used to be a real estate agent.”

“Then she could go back to doing that elsewhere.”

“Yeah. She was rather good.”

Grantaire took Enjolras hand and played with his fingers. “What about you? What do you want to do?”

“Play writing. I always wanted to write a play,” Enjolras said and pulled his hand away, visibly embarrassed at this unrealistic wish.

“For what’s it worth, I think you have a way with words. There is conviction behind them,” Grantaire said and smiled.

Enjolras snorted. “Thanks. That’s... really helpful.”

“Or... we could go to London... I could try and contact my friends from the theatre I worked in before Twigs... my dad died.”

“ _You_ worked in a theatre?” Enjolras asked, his eyes lit up with wonderful anticipation, and Grantaire just smiled and leaned forward.

“Aren’t you adorable?” he asked and planted a kiss on Enjolras’ smiling lips.

“You’re in theatre? And you never told me?”

“I’m not literally involved. I just help out. I never thought there was a point in telling anyone,” Grantaire corrected the mistake right away.

“But...?”

“I only _worked_ at a theatre. Just practical tasks. I wasn’t asked for inputs. You however could contribute with actual input for a play.”

Enjolras breathed in hard and exhaled trying to contain the glimmer of hope in his voice. “If they’d let me. Why did you mention this?”

“They shut down production because our last show didn’t sell enough tickets. They’re regrouping to get a new play going and it takes some time. Part of the long story of why I’m here. I suppose though it couldn’t hurt to ask how long in the process they’re now, and if we could be of any use when they get around to it.”

“It most certainly couldn’t hurt. But... Where do I fit in?”

“None of them are trained writers or actors. It’s all experimental, abstract, so why not give you a shot? The wage is practically invisible, mind you,” Grantaire quickly added.

“It all sounds very glamorous except where would we live, Grantaire?”

“I don’t know honestly. Do you have any connections?”

Enjolras thought for a few moments and nodded. “Jehan’s sister... my stepsister... Floréal lives in London.”

“Uhu...” Grantaire said with a big smile and shook his head. “How about that? Does Jehan fancy a trip to London?”

“I’m not sure we’ll be welcome,” Enjolras said.

“But it’s sure worth asking, innit?” Grantaire said and stole another kiss.

Enjolras held on to Grantaire’s shoulders and pressed his lips harder against Grantaire’s before he got up. “It is. Of course it is,” he said, “I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll ask Jehan.”

Grantaire nodded. “So you’re going home?”

Enjolras was undressing, and Grantaire dared to stick his head in. “Yes, I’m going home. Need to check in on how my mum’s doing.”

“Want me to... you know... drive you?”

“No. I’ll walk. I need to straighten my head. It’s been... hectic for me. I’m sure you understand.”

Grantaire looked away. Of course he understood. He just wanted to do something nice for Enjolras.

“You’re not my boyfriend, you know...”

Grantaire straightened up and almost felt offended, but Enjolras was right. Grantaire was not his boyfriend, but he wanted to be.

“Really?” Enjolras asked and turned on the water before he slipped behind the shower curtain.

“Really what?” Grantaire asked and then he realised that he must have said that aloud. “Well...” Grantaire crossed his arms over his chest. “If you thought...”

“Grantaire relax, all right? I’m barely over the fact of what Félix underwent and what the effect of that had on me. I’m not ready for another relationship – mind you.” Enjolras stuck his head out of the curtain and looked pointedly at Grantaire. “You’re the first in line if I ever wanted to date again. Even though you claim you’re straight.”

“Did I claim that?”

Enjolras just laughed.

“But say I get you to London. Wouldn’t you just leave me the second we arrive?” Grantaire asked.

“Are you that insecure?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire didn’t answer and Enjolras began soaping up. Yeah. He was. He’d adored living with his mum. He’d felt safe and secure that the world was all right and the two of them could always count on each other with Twigs’ persistent absence. Luckily, she pushed him forward even when he’d been reluctant to leave home. But he gained some confidence once he began living his own life, and the theatre gig was a major part of that process.

“I just feel... that you don’t need me, is all.”

“I don’t need a boyfriend, Grantaire. A friend. Not a boyfriend. That’s a big difference.”

“So I could be your friend?” Grantaire asked, even though that was not what he really wanted.

Enjolras had finished rinsing off and stepped out of the shower. Wet and shiny with crystal clear water droplets all over his goosebumped skin. Long limbs so beautifully toned that Grantaire didn’t quite know how not to look at them. 

“You can look at me if you want. Get it over with and have your fill, Grantaire,” Enjolras said and put his hands on his hips.

“Jesus,” Grantaire said and swallowed, but he did as Enjolras offered and took a thorough look at him. Enjolras was gorgeous and Grantaire got a hard on before he had consulted his brain about it. Nothing about the obvious male planes of Enjolras’ physique diminished the effect, and Grantaire accepted that. He would be a hypocrite if he didn’t. “That’s hardly something you offer a friend, Enjolras,” he blurted out.

“Well, if you want to be my friend, you’d be noble about it.”

“Enjolras? Stop the cute act. I’m not thinking about you in any kind of friendly way. I’m... I definitely don’t have any noble thoughts when you give me a hard on.”

“Well, you haven’t thrown me on the bed and demanded a fuck yet...”

“That’s because boyfriends normally don’t behave like that.”

Enjolras looked lost all of a sudden and went to sit down on the bed. “I don't have any other ‘reference’.”

“I get it. Félix put his disgusting paws on you when you were too young to have had any other sexual experience. He’s nasty...”

“I’m lost, Grantaire...” Enjolras said, immediately pushing the conversation towards the point he was really aiming for. When he wiped his palm across his cheek it came up wet from tear.

“No... nono,” Grantaire said and sank down in front of him. “I’m sorry. It’s so fucking undignified of me to get turned on when you’re still unwell. ”

“Grantaire, I totally asked for it. I shouldn’t stand there like a whore. That’s the kind of show that Félix would have wanted to watch.”

“I’m no angel, Enjolras. I didn’t mind watching either. However, I would have appreciated that it turned you on, too.”

“You do turn me on,” Enjolras said quietly and wiped his cheek again. 

Grantaire fell forward and pulled him into his arms. “All right.” Grantaire closed his eyes. That was good. The rest would hopefully sort itself out in time. “Just so you know: being naked in front of me doesn’t count as behaving like a whore. It’s just being naked, but you know I really liked what I saw.”

After a while, Enjolras fidgeted, and Grantaire let go of him so he could get dressed and go home like he’d said he would.

“I’ll come around later tomorrow.”

“You’ll talk to Jehan?”

“I’ll talk to him the minute I see him at home,” Enjolras promised and left.

Well. Then there wasn’t much else for Grantaire to do but wait until tomorrow.

~¤¤¤~

Monday morning was Grantaire’s turn to open the store at 7am. Jehan would show up at 11am for Grantaire’s first break. He came in earlier but Grantaire had anticipated that.

There were only a few customers in the shop, so Jehan came straight to Grantaire and they shook hands. Jehan had a nervous energy going on, and Grantaire asked if he had any news.

“Félix’s improving. Your suggestion of us going to London couldn't come at a better time.”

“How is he? What do you mean by ‘improving’?”

“That he’s past danger and is improving,” Jehan said vaguely.

“Will he testify?” Grantaire asked with an impatient sigh.

“Nah...” Jehan said and smiled with a fire in his expressive eyes. “They say he’s brain damaged... for life...”

“Huhhhh,” Grantaire exhaled surprisingly loudly but added in a whisper, “Wow... how convenient... Who said that? The last time you had news, you claimed he was dead, and he soooo wasn’t dead, Jehan. Ring any bells?”

“Well, he is very _very_ brain damaged. As in can’t even keep the drool down, can he?”

“Um..." Grantaire was one big question mark. He feared the worst and Jehan wasn't letting him down.

“He lacked oxygen... or so I’ve heard,” Jehan murmured and looked Grantaire meaningfully straight in the eyes.

Grantaire stared back, looking from one of Jehan’s intense eyes to the other. 

Jehan nodded slowly. “It’s incredible what a pillow can do...” he eventually said.

Grantaire swallowed and looked away. So Jehan had suffocated Félix at the hospital during one of his ‘concerned’ brother in law visits.

“I’ve done it every time I paid him a visit. Let him stew for half a minute and then remove it again. Was easy, mate.”

“How many times have you done it?” Grantaire asked. Not that he actually wanted to know but like an accident you can’t take your eyes off, he had to ask.

“Eight times,” Jehan said. “And blimey... when he recovered from his coma, he was brain dead. What a shame.” Jehan looked away. “I’m not a crazy person, Grantaire. But Félix is... he’s not a good person. To anybody. I can’t have him around Enjy or anybody else. He’s just...”

“A very bad person. I get it, Jehan... frankly. I don’t care what happens to Félix, but I care what happens to you. Do you understand that?” Grantaire asked.

Jehan’s hard features softened up and he smiled. “Thanks, mate.” He pulled Grantaire into a hug and Grantaire wrapped his arms around him. 

“All right,” Grantaire said when they let go the second after. “I have something to discuss with you.” Simultaneously, they checked the store to see if they had time for that, but nobody was nearing the till to pay yet.

“What is it?” Jehan responded.

“I want to take Enjolras to London. You have relatives that might be able to help us. I want you to come, too.”

“But the store?” Jehan pointed out.

“We’ll wait until Feuilly is back.”

“I’m not sure Floréal would want three people sleeping at her place.”

“Even family? I’d sleep in the basement if necessary. I don't care. I’m not going to stick around during the day anyway. Just as a base until we find something else.”

“I’ll ask. That’s all I can promise.”

“Well, it’s a start. And in a week, Feuilly will be back and he’ll just have to hire someone else. No big deal. That’s life. He’ll get over it. Not our problem.”

“When you put it that way, it makes sense.”

Grantaire nodded and turned around when there was a cough at the till to get his attention.

“Be right there,” he told them. To Jehan he added, “We’ll talk about this later.”

~¤¤¤~

That became much later when the store closed. Jehan went upstairs with Grantaire. He’d only had a chance to talk to his sister late during the day, and Grantaire was eager to find out what news he had to share.

Enjolras was there as expected. Grantaire wondered what he’d been doing all day since he didn’t mingle with the bikers anymore, but he’d have to ask him afterwards.

“Hey, Enjy,” Jehan said warmly and went to hug Enjolras.

“Hi, Jehan,” Enjolras said and looked up to smile at Grantaire’s apprehensive expression.

“So?” Grantaire said and gave Jehan his sole attention.

“She said we could come, but... we couldn’t stay for more than a few weeks. Like you suggested, we can use her basement. There’s a small room and we’d have to sleep on bedrolls or something, but if we’re all right with that, so is she.”

Enjolras looked relieved, and so was Grantaire. He could actually get them away from this place.

“Fine. It’s more than fine, it’s fucking brilliant,” Enjolras said and his eyes were literally sparkling with happiness. “When?” he asked impatiently.

“When Feuilly is back. That’s the least we can do,” Grantaire said.

“Feuilly never went, Grantaire. He’s still around,” Jehan enlightened him.

“No Sunny Beach?"

"He and his girlfriend broke up last night."

"Oh... but surely...”

“Happens every other month, Grantaire," Enjolras said drily, "They'll get back together again within a week."

"Feuilly’ll be understanding to our situation. He’s our cousin,” Jehan said.

Grantaire snorted. Of _course_ Feuilly was their cousin.

“I’ll text him. It won’t be a problem. It’s not like he hasn’t a bunch of people to approach if he needs more staff,” Jehan said and indicated a hand towards the parking lot where the unemployed youth of Wilt’s Cove hung out.

"More cousins?"

Enjolras slapped Grantaire's arm. "That was incredibly rude."

Grantaire chuckled. “All right... well... I’ll have to sort out the rent for this place?”

“Slow down, Grantaire. It’s no hurry. The stuff here belongs to the flat.”

“I was under the impression that my dad...”

Jehan shook his head. “No. It belongs to Feuilly’s mum. She lives in Brummie, but the flat is hers. We just keep an eye on the tenants. There'll be a new one within a few days.”

“What is it with you lot? You’re the tightest knitted family I’ve ever come across, or maybe it’s just overwhelming because my own relationship with my dad was not tight.”

“And your mum? Sibs?”

“Mum is dead and I’m an only child,” Grantaire said.

“I can’t even imagine what it would be like not having a big family with siblings,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire smiled and shrugged. “Don’t know it any differently.”

“You can borrow my mum anytime,” Enjolras said and put his arms around Grantaire’s neck.

“If you two ever get hitched, I’d be honoured to be your best man, Grantaire,” Jehan said.

Enjolras cocked his head and looked into Grantaire’s eyes. “He’s never gonna get it that I’m not a girl. Don't worry, baby.”

“I don’t, darling,” Grantaire replied, keeping the eye lock until they both broke it in a fit of laughter.

Jehan was dialling a number when Grantaire was aware of his presence again.

“Feuilly? It’s Jehan. You’re gonna have to make short on your vacation... What? Yeah, well tough, mate. We’re packin’ it. Going to London for a while. Grantaire’s going with us so you’ll have to find other arrangements with the store... Yeah, sorry about that, but things just went out of control after your party. We want Enjy to get away, don’t we?... Well, they’re an item now so... Yeah, right. Thought so... Hm? _I’m_ a tit?... You’ll just have to close the bloody shop for a few days then, won’t ya? Later, mate.” Jehan looked at them pointedly. “Mission accomplished.”

Grantaire didn’t think it sounded accomplished at all in Feuilly’s point of view, but he guessed their manager didn’t have a choice.

“Well, I’ll pack up me stuff in a jiffy,” Grantaire said. Very little of the things in the flat had belonged to Twigs anyway and therefore neither Grantaire. Basically, he still only owned what fit into his bag – and the motorcycle.

“What about your dad’s clothes and... stuff?” Jehan asked.

“Oh... that...” Grantaire hadn’t had time to sort through any of that. He’d been caught up in Enjolras from day one of his arrival.

“Tell you what. I’ll have Feuilly take care of it, what do you say?” Jehan came up and put his arms around both Grantaire and Enjolras.

Nodding, Grantaire then shrugged. “Sure. Why not? I don’t really care about any of it except for his papers.”

“You can always come back and have a look. He won’t throw anything important away.”

“Whatever,” Grantaire said and looked into Enjolras’ eyes. He was probably the best thing that had happened to Grantaire in a long time, and now he was going to whisk Enjolras away from this dreary place. Just like Grantaire wanted to the first day when he saw him being abused by Félix.

“Kiss him already, Enjy. I’ll take a picture of you lot!” Jehan laughed and picked up his phone.

“Don’t leach on our happiness, Jehan,” Enjolras huffed and looked away.

“Oh, but you always look so pretty on pictures, Enjy.”

“Shut _up_ , Jehan!” Enjolras hissed and self-consciously wound his arms around himself.

“I’m sorry, Enjy,” Jehan said, crestfallen. “I never meant to... Enj?”

Grantaire stepped in front of Enjolras and carefully took his face in his hands. 

“Hey,” he said and pulled him into his arms. “What’s wrong?” 

Enjolras reciprocated the hug. “I just...” Enjolras sniffed weakly and shook his head. “Thank you for this, Grantaire. _Really_.” 

“It’s just the beginning of your new life, Enjolras. No pressure, darling,” Grantaire joked lightly and ran a hand lovingly over his hair. “I know you’re not head over heels in love with me, but I am with you. I just want to see you happy.”

“Oh, I am,” Enjolras replied seriously. “You can’t even phantom how happy you’re making me.”

His confession blew Grantaire’s mind and he didn't know what to do with the feelings welling up inside him giving him goosebumps all over.

Trusting a future together would hand them a better life, they smiled at one another. 

And when they kissed each other, the noise of Jehan’s camera barely registered.

The End.


End file.
